


Convicted Criminals of Thought

by EllesAlwaysWriting



Series: OT12 Archives [7]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-11-24 16:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllesAlwaysWriting/pseuds/EllesAlwaysWriting
Summary: Sehun's dream journal and Jongin's big mouth get Sehun into quite the predicament.





	Convicted Criminals of Thought

**Author's Note:**

> 7/??? of a miscellaneous collection of oneshots and drabbles I found in the nostalgic depths of my EXO folder. All works were written between July 2013 - August 2015 and featuring all twelve original EXO members in one way or another.
> 
> Originally written in October of 2013, this oneshot was inspired by the largely believed rumor that Sehun preferred China Line over his own EXO-K members back in the day. Title appropriately taken from "Sexxxx Dreams" by Lady GaGa.

Sehun wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be focusing on at the moment. He could pay attention to the fact that he’s the meat of Zitao & Luhan sandwich, or how Yifan and Yixing seem to be in their own little world against the wall. How the fuck did he even get here in the first place? Most of the trouble in the dorm is caused by Jongdae, but orchestrating this kind of situation isn’t really his forte. No, wait, he was certain Jongin was partially responsible for getting him where he was now. Jongin not being able to keep his big drunken mouth shut along with his own compulsion to document his weird ass dreams were to blame for his current…_positioning._

It started off as a joke, with Jongin giggling out a silly observation as they were backstage at Show Champion. “You always seem to gravitate towards the Chinese members, I think you should see someone about your fetish.” He opted out of arguing and swiftly raised his foot to Jongin’s ass instead. It was kind of true_,_ anyway. He was _quite_ close to Luhan. Even with him practically stalking Minseok recently, they still have their alone time. Same with Zitao, except he’s a little more clingy and territorial with Sehun than the others (not that he minds). Yixing was the polar opposite of both of the aforementioned, always jumping in surprise and gazing wonderingly at Sehun when he’d randomly show him any affection. It was cute, he thought, how Yixing never really expects the actions but accepts them so quickly. He’s a lot easier to deal with than Luhan or Zitao, a lot more pliable and receptive to instruction. And Yifan…well, Yifan intimidates the fuck out of Sehun, he always has. The reality that he’s a docile giant who wouldn’t harm a soul seems to slip his mind easily when he locks eyes with Yifan in mid-death stare, looking like he wants to reach over the table and punch him in the face. Sehun would probably let him.

Alcohol definitely had a lot to do with what’s going on right now, also. Because Jongin is a horrible gossip and a loud, chatty drunk. He had barely even finished his second beer before he was splayed over Sehun, whisper-yelling into his ear about how much he loved everybody and everything and decided to inform the entire room about –

_“- that one time you had that dream about,” _hiccup, _“about sucking Yifan off while the rest of the Chinese hyungs watched?”_

Sehun laughed obnoxiously, hoping to raise over Jongin’s outburst, but the damage was already done. It was just Sehun’s luck that Yifan was currently the only stone-cold sober person in the room. Sehun spent the rest of the night wondering why he even told Jongin about that stupid dream and dodging Yifan’s piercing stares at all costs. He briefly browses articles pertaining to _Chinese fetishes, _but spends more time googling “quick but painful ways to murder your best friend.” The latter brings forth too many results to choose from, of course. Apparently Sehun wasn't as alone in this desire as he thought.

Sehun made the mistake of thinking he was lucky when no one mentioned it the next day, or even the day after that. The weekend is when Sehun’s luck ran out.

It started off as a normal Saturday: sleeping in till noon, eating lunch together, and lounging around in their pajamas all day. The gears shifted when Jongin suggests they go out for dinner, an invitation Sehun unconsciously refuses because he had only risen from his bed to eat and grumble incoherently. Jongin, being the wonderful friend he is, had even suggested that four certain members stayed back to keep him company after he '_stumbles'_ upon Sehun’s dream journal '_accidentally_' while stealing some socks out of Sehun's drawer.

Sehun curses Jongin as soon as he hears the door creak, originally thinking he'd stayed back him to tease him. He refuses to open his eyes, continuing to pretend to sleep even when he feels a hand on his hipbone and a tongue swipe behind his ear. He shudders, but keeps up the sleeping façade.

“Sehun-ahhh~” Luhan coos from behind him, “wake up, Sehun…”

“Well! He’s asleep, guess we’ll just -"

“Shhh, shut up,” Yifan says sternly, and his voice sounds closer as he continues, “stop trying to ruin our fun.”

“I’m not! I just don’t think we should be - "

“Yixing, you heard what Jongin said, it’s not like we’re doing something he doesn’t want…come here, just relax.”

Sehun decides in that very moment that the next time he wanted to see Jongin was under the sole of his foot as he stepped on his face. A hand creeps under the waistband of his underwear to grope his ass cheek as someone on the other side of him takes his earlobe between their teeth, just the way he’d written it in his dream journal. Fuck, he really needs to put a lock on that piece of shit. Or maybe he should just stop writing down his sex dreams. Or stop mentioning people by name. Or maybe he should just fling himself out the window to save himself the trouble of dealing with any of this shit.

He whines as the sheets over him are yanked away from his body, cold air assaulting every pore of his exposed skin. “We know you’re not asleep, Sehunnie,” Zitao says, and Sehun can only infer that it’s his hand moving down to cup him brashly. Sehun gasps, involuntarily bucking up into the warm hand around him, but it leaves just as quickly as it came.

Zitao mumbles something in Mandarin from above him, to which Luhan laughs and responds. Sehun opens his eyes, trying to catch the movement of their lips as they chatted. He’s met with Luhan’s joyful expression immediately.

“Hunnie, you’re awake!” Luhan squeaks, swinging a leg over to straddle his waist. He licks his lips, glancing over to Zitao, whose lying next to Sehun with his chin digging into the younger’s shoulder. “With the things you’ve been dreaming, I can’t blame you for always wanting to sleep.”

Sehun’s already blushing heavily, heat crawling over and prickling his skin as Luhan stares down at him. He gulps when he takes in the fact that the lights are still beaming down on them and that Luhan was already shirtless, sitting on his chest with a wide smile on his face.

Luhan’s lip twitches a little before he tilts his head back, moaning shamelessly and rolling his ass against Sehun’s clothed crotch. Zitao snorts, biting back a fit of laughter, and Sehun’s gaze travels down Luhan’s gracefully defined abs to see Zitao’s hand moving lazily in Luhan’s basketball shorts.

“Calm down, Lu-gege,” Zitao says slowly, “you’re so eager.” Zitao moves to kneel beside Luhan and locks eyes with Sehun as he uses his free hand to grip the back of Luhan’s neck and pull him into a kiss. Luhan hums into his mouth, gripping Zitao’s forearm tightly as he continued to palm Luhan’s erection. Their pace stays soft and slow until Zitao bites down on Luhan’s bottom lip and he retaliates quickly by scratching hard down his arm. Sehun feels like he’s ready to burst just from watching the two pretty much ignoring him. They fit well together, Luhan and Zitao, a lot better than he could ever imagine. Sehun wishes he could just watch them kiss forever, but he’s forced to sit up as a whine from the corner of the room grabs his attention.

Luhan breaks away from Zitao, both of them turning towards the wall adjacent to the bed where Yifan is displaying his unique method of persuasion. He has Yixing’s wrists pinned at his sides, lips attached to his ear as he whispers, low and seductive. There’s no way to tell if Yixing is writhing in arousal or trying to squirm away. Sehun thinks it might be both.

He curses himself for not getting a higher mark on his Mandarin tests.

“Oh, please, don’t let us interrupt you two!” Luhan says, folding his arms over his chest when Yifan cuts his eyes at them over his shoulder. “Actually…come over here,” he pats his former space on the bed, grinning sweetly as he looks down at Sehun. “I’m sure Sehun wants to watch…don’t you?”

“Uhh – ” Sehun doesn’t get a chance to answer before Yixing lands next to him on the bed with a huff. He looks surprised, but obediently scoots to the edge of the bed when Yifan calls him and lets his shirt be pulled over his head.

Yifan pushes Yixing back down, directing his head to the right with two fingers on his cheek. “Kiss him,” Yifan says, his tone so serious and demanding that Sehun nearly bucks Luhan off while turning to fuse Yixing’s mouth to his. He’s honestly taken aback by how good of a kisser Yixing is, only because he keeps up that pretty idiot image so well that Sehun was beginning to fall for it. Though he’s quite fond of shy little Yixing, he figures he could get used to the sexy little thing currently licking into his mouth.

The weight on the bed shifts as Luhan slides off his lap and onto the floor, pulling Sehun’s boxers down with him. Another pair of hands run down his torso first, then back up to tweak at his nipples. He jerks, moaning into Yixing’s mouth, and Zitao laughs again, moving his hands down to join Luhan’s on his thighs.

“Duizhang, can I go first?” Zitao asks softly in Korean, wanting Sehun to at least partially follow what’s about to happen. Yifan chuckles, pulling Yixing up and disconnecting him from Sehun.

“Whose eager now?” Luhan teases, running a finger up the underside of Sehun’s cock. He groans, realizing just how heavy he felt between his thighs. Yifan swats their hands away, both emitting annoyed, childish groans. They had forgotten how they had agreed for this to go down.

Yifan knows Sehun’s respect for him borderlines on fear, and he was planning to take complete full advantage of it. “Both of you calm down,” he says, smacking Luhan in the back of the head, “neither if you are doing anything until I tell you.” They scoff but get the message to back off loud and clear. Yifan stands in place of Luhan, who moves to the left and settles between Yixing’s thighs. He bends, grabs a handful of Sehun’s hair and forces him to sit up, eye level with his crotch. Sehun swallows, closing his eyes tightly and tried to ignore the burning of his scalp and the goosebumps rising over his entire body. Zitao comes into his peripheral as he rises to Yifan’s side, peppering his neck in tiny pecks up to his ear. The grip on his hair slacks a bit, and Sehun takes a second to lay eyes on everyone in the room. He then realizes that he’s the only one completely naked, but with the way Luhan was mouthing around the band of Yixing’s underwear, he wouldn’t be for long.

“Duizhang~” Zitao repeats, sweeter this time, kissing back down Yifan's neck and undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “Can I, please? Luhan always goes first!”

_Luhan always goes first _bounces obscenely around Sehun's head. Trying to decipher exactly what that meant made his heart pound in a way he can't ignore.

“I do not, stop being such a baby,” Luhan murmurs against Yixing’s thigh. Yifan hits him again and his open mouth lands right on top of Yixing’s balls. He moans, so Luhan shrugs and stays there, blowing hot puffs of air against Yixing’s tented briefs.

Zitao’s practically vibrating the entire bed with the way he’s bouncing on his knees excitedly, still begging the leader for first dibs. Yifan lets go of Sehun and softly places the hand around the back of Zitao’s neck, smiling back at the younger’s content little grin. He then proceeds to wipe that grin right off his face with an obviously painful tug to the nape of his neck. Zitao yelps, nearly slipping off the bed as Yifan pulls him closer.

“You’ll go when I say you can, and if you keep this shit up I’m gonna make you sit in the corner and watch,” he punctuates his instructions with another twist to his reddening skin.“Understand me?”

“Y-yes, Yifan-ge,” Zitao says quietly, still bouncing. The way he’s whimpering doesn’t exactly sound like he’s in pain, even though the veins in Yifan’s hands are visibly throbbing.

“Excellent.” He pushes Zitao back onto the bed and turns his attention back to Luhan, who was now administering timid kitten licks to the head of Yixing’s dick, giggling every time he tries to thrust further into his mouth. “Luhan, you go play nice with Tao,” he says in Korean, finally glancing back at Sehun, “we can handle Yixing from here.” Luhan nods rapidly, climbing onto the bed and crawling over Zitao.

“We?” Sehun asks quietly, thankful that he could understand something that was said. He had forgotten that he was supposed to be a part of the entanglement of limbs on his bed.

Yifan raises an eyebrow, paralyzing Sehun with the intense eye contact. “Yes, ‘we,’ Sehunnie,” he confirms, petting the maknae’s bedhead. Sehun unconsciously leans into the touch, desperate for any kind of physical contact he could get. He tilts Sehun’s head up, smirking down at the hungry glaze over Sehun’s eyes. “Keep Yixing entertained while I prep you, okay?” he says nonchalantly, reaching over and squeezing Yixing’s bare leg.

Sehun’s throat suddenly goes dry, yet he’s practically drooling as he agrees without a second thought. “Yeah…yeah, okay,” he stutters, trying to grab a hold of his fleeting dignity with no such luck.

Yifan’s smile gets even wider. “Perfect. Now, get on all fours.”

Sehun scoots back, flipping over onto his stomach and propping himself up on his hands and knees. He can see Luhan and Zitao to his right on the bed, grinding together as they kissed passionately. It’d look more romantic if they weren’t separating to insult each other so much. Yifan and Yixing are talking on the other side of his head, in Mandarin, of-fucking-course. He hears a distinct _slap_ echo off the walls before Yixing chuckles. Yifan grabs Sehun’s hair again, pulling him up enough for Yixing to kneel comfortably in front of him, now completely nude. Sehun sinks down without hesitation when Yifan pushes him forward, proud of the sound he rips from Yixing’s throat as he sucks as much of the member into his mouth as he can. It’s been a while since he’d kissed Luhan, but it was almost like he could taste him on his tongue as he works his throat around the head. A cool brush of air hits his back as Yifan turns away and he shudders, trying to concentration on Yixing’s heaving chest and the bitter spurts of precum trickling into his mouth instead. He looks up and watches Yixing’s Adam’s apple rise & sink, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to keep his eyes open. His pants mingle with Zitao’s as Luhan presses into him at the same pace as Sehun’s bobbing.

He moans around Yixing when one of Yifan’s hands comes back to his hips, gripping tightly while two lubed fingers push past the tight ring of muscle. He pulls back, letting Yixing’s cock fall from his mouth and biting down on his inner thigh to keep from screaming. Yifan smirks, adding another finger quickly and working him open. Sehun doesn’t even wait for the burn to dull before he’s bucking his hips back, trying to fuck himself on Yifan’s hand. Yifan smacks him hard across his right cheek in a warning.

“Bad boy, Sehun. Stay still.”

“Hyung, please, I need – ” he protests, earning another smack.

“Stay still, or I’m gonna tie you to the bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a very good punishment, Yifan,” Yixing comments, reading Sehun flushed expression. Luhan laughs from under Zitao before his voice cracks into a whimper. _When did they switch positions?_

Yifan lays over Sehun's back and slaps the top of Yixing’s thigh. “Quiet, you,” he chuckles. The hand comes to the cover the front of Sehun’s neck, ragged breathes on the side of his face and fingers still scratching at his prostate. Yifan is still fully clothed, agonizingly soft cotton and denim scratching Sehun’s skin as he lays flat on his back. “Now, Sehun. We read enough your little diary to know how bad you want to be fucked in general, but tell us...how badly do you want Yixing to fuck you?”

Sehun voices catches in his throat for a second. “So bad” slides out, anyway. “God, so bad…”

“What about Luhan?” Yifan asks, pressing his fingers harder into Sehun’s prostate. “We all know you’ve already fucked him more than once…do you still want him?”

He moans, dropping his face to his chest because he can’t think straight with four pairs of eyes boring into him. The hand gripping his waist raises to slap his ass again.

“Ah! fuck– ”

“Answer the question, Sehun.”

“Yes! Fuck yes,” he cries out, lifting his head to look at Luhan, now straddling Zitao with his wrists pinned to either side of his head. He smiles conceitedly back at him and Zitao takes the distraction as an opportunity to flip them over once again.

“And Tao? Oh, boy, did you write some interesting things about our baby Taozi in your journal,” Yifan laughs.

Sehun sighs pathetically as he recalls the last entry of his journal – a very explicitly descriptive of the dream he had just last night.

“I could suck you off in the shower after this if you want,” Zitao offers, now playing the big spoon in Luhan’s aggressive take on cuddling.

“Sounds fun, can I watch?” little spoon Luhan adds cutely.

“One fantasy at a time, boys,” Yifan tuts. “Although I’m quite interested in that one about me & you in the kitchen…” Sehun’s legs begin to shake as he thinks about how real that dream felt. Yifan’s hand on the back of his neck, pushing his face into the cold marble as he fucked him relentlessly into the counter…_ugh,_ dignity be damned,the digits his walls were clenched around were no longer enough.

“Yifan-hyung,” he calls softly, “please, I need more. Somebody just…please?” He immediately feels Yifan withdraw his fingers and the sting of another slap to his ass.

“You really are aching for it, aren’t you?” Yifan digs, grabbing Sehun’s neglected cock hanging in between his thighs. Sehun swears he would have come right then & there if Yifan had chosen to stroke instead of squeezing him. “Fine.” He lets go and tosses the bottle of lube on the bed before walking over to the armchair in the corner. He pulls it to the foot of the bed and slumps into the seat, threading his fingers together on his stomach. “Yixing goes first, then Tao.” Yifan would get up to punish Zitao for immediately sticking his tongue out at Luhan, but he’s too comfortable in his current position. Instead, he calls Luhan over and makes the mousy boy sit in his lap, letting him rub along the length of his body like a feral little feline. The pout on Zitao’s face when Yifan orders him to sit on his hands while he watches Sehun & Yixing was evidence enough that he was learning his lesson.

“Serves you right, brat,” Luhan says under his breath. He hisses when his head is yanked back and Yifan nips at his neck a little too hard to be pleasurable.

“Would you just shut the hell and watch? Jesus,” he whispers, lapping at the fresh teeth marks.

And watch is exactly what he does when Sehun climbs over Yixing and kisses him again, hard and bruising. Something sparks inside Sehun as Yixing’s hands landed on his hips, pushing him down and keeping him there when he starts to grind down into the other. He felt so neglected, so needy, he’d never been this horny in his life (and that’s saying something). They keep this up for a few minutes, swallowing each other’s moans as they kiss, pelvis-to-pelvis friction almost being enough.

The room is silent for the most part until Zitao releases his bottom lip from the death grip of his teeth and nearly shouts, “Jesus Christ, just fuck him already.” Yifan shoots the impatient boy a narrowed gaze and he shuts his mouth.

Yixing sits up and pulls Sehun into his lap, handles him with a tenderness Sehun would probably take time to enjoy if he didn’t really, really need to get off. He exhales deeply when Sehun sinks down slowly and rubs his back gently, waiting for the pain of the stretch to dissipate from Sehun’s expression. Sehun moves first, raising his hips a little and wrapping his legs around Yixing’s waist before pushing back down. He sets a fast pace, so content with finally being filled that he can barely control himself. Yixing grips his hips tightly, canting his own forward every time Sehun slams down and capturing his mouth into possessive, sloppy kisses. Sehun bounces in his lap, ignoring the sticky sheen of sweat between them as he presses closer, suckling at the fresh hickeys left by a very persuasive Yifan moments ago.

Sehun keeps his eyes closed, for the most part, moaning into Yixing’s neck between kisses, until he hears the sheets ruffle behind them. He rests his chin on Yixing’s shoulder and opens his eyes to see Zitao had moved closer, hands fisting the sheets as he locks eyes with Sehun again. There’s no cutesy, flirtatious gleam to his gaze anymore, just desire - hunger - seeping out of every pore with droplets of sweat. His tongue darts out and sweeps over his lips, and he looks as though he’s about to lean in and kiss him when Yifan butts in.

“Zitao,” he sighs, “you’ve been quite defiant today.”

“I know, gege, I’m sorry. I just – ” His hands are shaking as he scoots back on the bed, shame washing over his face. “He…God, you look so fucking good right now, Sehun…”

Sehun blinks weakly, tries to vocalize a response but Yixing’s grip tightens on his hips, bouncing him harder and the words never make it out of his mouth. So he stares back at Zitao as he’s rocked back and forth, whining and moaning and digging his teeth into Yixing’s shoulder – he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the visible frustration and distress he was causing him. Sehun can feel his cock twitch in anticipation when blunt nails drag hard down his back, hips under him stuttering suddenly.

“Fuck!” Yixing curses harshly, nuzzling into Sehun’s clavicle as he comes buried to the hilt inside him.

Sehun finds the strength to actually giggle at the outburst. He had never heard Yixing curse before, and Zitao looks just as surprised as he did. If it made room for the new inflation of his ego from making Yixing shout like that, he could deal with losing every ounce of dignity tonight.

Yixing nudges his face and he finally breaks eye contact with Zitao, kissing him sweetly as he slips out from under him. He feels incredibly empty as Yixing pulls out, shivering at the cool air surrounding him once more.

The whine hardly leaves his lips before he’s knocked onto his back and Zitao’s panting above him.

“Whoa, take it easy there, tiger,” Luhan heckles from the floor, having willingly given his seat in their leader’s lap to a drowsy Yixing. Yifan takes a break from lovingly stroking Yixing’s hair to pluck Luhan’s ear. “Ow!”

“Don’t listen to him,” he starts. Zitao has Sehun’s wrists pinned tight above his head, looking to Yifan for further instructions as he flicks at one of Sehun’s nipples with his tongue. “I saw how he was looking at you just now, teasing you, practically begging for another dick while he was already riding one.”

“Why, Oh Sehun, you dirty little tease,” Zitao grins, acting as if he wasn't completely encouraging Sehun's behavior. He toys with Sehun's other nipple before biting down on the stiff nub. Sehun thrusts up, rubbing unchaste against Zitao’s erection and moaning out when he presses him back down into the mattress.

“Go ahead and give him what he’s asking. In fact, Luhan…”

“Yes?”

“Give him something to do with his mouth since he's so fucking eager.”

Luhan immediately raises and climbs to the center of the bed, suggesting something in Mandarin to Zitao and sealing the exchange with a small peck to the younger’s lips. Zitao moves aside and Luhan takes his place. “Gimme a kiss, Sehunnie,” he mewls, intertwining their fingers as Sehun raises his head. Luhan dips his tongue into the maknae’s mouth then pulls away little by little, expecting Sehun to chase after him. And he does, moving closer every time Luhan straightens his back and trying to deepen the kiss. He ends up on his knees near the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around Luhan's neck to lock him in place before he shimmies off the bed.

Zitao settles behind Sehun on the bed, sliding smoothly into him in one thrust and Sehun whimpers into Luhan’s mouth, rutting back.

“Shit,” he moans, staring in dazed ecstasy when Luhan pulls back. Zitao pulls out a little and thrusts in harder, growling low in his throat as he moans louder and Sehun clinches around him.

Luhan cards his fingers through Sehun’s damp hair, pushing him back when he tries to kiss him again. “Other parts of my body missed your mouth just as much, you know…” Sehun understands straight away, but Zitao grabs him by the back of his neck and forces him down to make sure he gets the point. Luhan’s head flings back as soon as Sehun’s tongue dips into his slit and his moans vibrate over Luhan’s shaft as he loosens his jaw and sinks down further. Luhan tugs at his hair, thrusting gently into his mouth and ignoring the slight gag as he hits the back of Sehun’s throat. Zitao surges forward frantically, not showing Sehun much mercy after not even being able to touch himself. He’s digging crescents into Sehun’s hips as he fucks into the welcoming heat. All consideration of the other’s pleasure goes flying out of the window when he Sehun starts rocking back into his thrusts just as hard.

Sehun expects himself to overheat or pass out pretty soon, which he honestly wouldn’t be too upset about. What he doesn’t expect is for his appetite to still not be satisfied, even while being filled at both ends. He can feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes as Luhan thrusts deeper down his throat, yet he keeps moving forward when he feels the appendage slipping from his mouth. Zitao’s nails feel like they’re drawing blood and his tailbone feels bruised, but he keeps rutting back into him. He feels lightheaded and wrecked and dirty but he feels himself pleading for more and he has no idea why, but he’s loving every second of it.

Zitao is doubled over him when he comes, panting Sehun’s name into his shoulder blade and smoothing his hands along his sides. Luhan yanks his cock away just as Zitao pulls out and Sehun whines loudly, exhausted and dizzy but still so hard and he just _needs_. He’s about to open his mouth to beg when Luhan grips the back of his neck and pushes his face into the bed. Sehun groans in frustration, letting his legs relax as he presses into the bed, momentarily squashed into the mattress as Luhan leans over him.

Sehun immediately resorts to begging, having gotten used to Luhan's usual playfulness and knowing how to handle him. “H-hyung, pleaseee, cut it out, let me-"

“God, you're whiny,” Yifan suddenly comments, so close that it slightly startles Sehun. He feels his skin prickling as it dawns on him that there are still people watching them in the room. Watching _him._ He opens his eyes, expecting to see Luhan's crotch blocking his view of the other three sitting in the plushy red armchair in front of the bed, but his entire view is blocked by Yifan's torso instead. The wrinkled white shirt he’d been wearing the whole time was now untucked and he's unbuckling his belt. “Are you only quiet with a cock in your mouth, Sehun?”

“Obviously,” Luhan chuckles from beside him, still holding him down by his neck. He strokes down Sehun's spine with his free hand, tracing over the angry red lines Yixing left scattered across the skin.

As Yifan steps closer, Sehun lifts his head up, allowed to move a little more as Luhan busies himself massaging his back. He props himself up on his forearms and eyes Yifan's bulging crotch, tongue jutting out to wet his lips. “Yifan-hyung," he chokes out, clearing his throat after. "I…I want to know what you taste like,” he admits shamelessly.

Yifan chuckles, stepping out of his undone jeans and patting Sehun on his head. “Oh, you will, Sehun, don’t worry. But first, take care of Luhan.”

Sehun nods, swallowing him down instantly as Luhan moves in front of him again. He feels Yifan climb onto the bed with them, hovering over him, and he spreads his legs further, grinding down into the mattress. He realizes how sensitive he was after not being touched for so long – his 500 thread count sheets felt like sandpaper against him – but every and anything felt good right now, even the hard slaps to his thighs he receives when he swiveled his hips again.

“Stop that,” Yifan orders, sliding his fingers up to his thighs. Sehun whimpers when he pushes three of them knuckle-deep into him and presses into his prostate. “I’ll take care you soon, Sehunnie, just be patient.”

Sehun wants to nod, but he can feel Luhan’s fingers twitching against his scalp, knowing that as Luhan's tell. He reaches forward, fist pumping and increasing the suction of his mouth. The quickness pulls Luhan over the edge fast, leaving him breathless and dazed. Sehun swallows slowly, savoring the slither of the salty liquid down his throat. The loss of Yifan’s fingers are a relief to his senses but he still feels too empty to rest.

Yifan flips him over and pushes into him without hesitation, pulling Sehun's long legs around his waist and caging his head between his forearms. Sehun is prompt in matching his steady rhythm, happy that he didn't have to beg. His skin burning deliciously at all points of contact and he could swear he’s on fire from the waist down. Every thrust rips through his body but it feels good, so good, too good. His mouth hangs open, a mantra of groans broken up by curses and Yifan’s name. Sehun's scratching Yifan's waist, trying desperately to pull him closer, and Yifan can’t help but love the sting of Sehun groping at the welts.

“You’re such a cutie, Sehun,” Yifan rasps against his neck, “I’m surprised you haven’t come yet. You’ve definitely earned it, that’s for sure…”

He wails, squeezing his thighs around Yifan’s waist, increasing the twinges of heat between their damp torsos and Sehun could swear he was gonna explode soon if Yifan didn’t slow down a little and let him get out what he wants to say.

“Hyung, p-please,” he says. “Please, I need to - I just, I - I – ” He stutters, not really sure how or why he wants this but he does. Yifan’s hands are on his face, wiping away frustrated tears he didn’t know were falling. Overstimulated to the point of embarrassment, he turns away but decides he’s not going to shy away from what he wants. He’s still mumbling when Yifan kisses him softly.

“Shhh, baby. Calm down,” he whispers against his lips, “it’s okay, Sehun, come here.” Yifan slips off the bed and stands at the edge, cradling Sehun’s face gently, as if he was suddenly afraid of breaking him. Sehun sniffles, wills the tears to stop and they do, thank God, because he felt so pathetic now. He didn’t want Yifan to _baby_ him, to think he couldn’t handle his own imagination springing to life and now proving himself was more important than anything.

When Yifan bends down to kiss him again he moves away, alternatively bending down and taking the head of his cock between his swollen lips. He swirls his tongue around the glistening member as he takes in as much as he can, pressing fingers into Yifan's ass.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans.

Sehun shifts, moving down to grip the older's thighs as he releases him with an obscene pop, licking around the head again. He looks up, making eye contact with Yifan for the first time all day and whispers, “fuck my mouth, Yifan…please.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Yifan smirks. “Say it louder.”

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he tries to say clearly, but it comes on broken by a moan.

Yifan smiles and pats him on the head again. “See? That wasn't so hard.” He taps Sehun’s bottom lip twice and his mouth opens wide without instruction. “Good boy.” Yifan’s never seen Sehun sit so still or look so strung out, so he takes a moment for admiration before yanking Sehun’s hair and stuffing his dick down his throat.

Sehun gags a little but speedily works his throat around him as Yifan starts thrusting into the tight, warm cavern of the maknae’s mouth. He moans around him happily, somehow appreciative of being used as a cumbucket. Yifan is pulling at his hair so hard he’s almost afraid he’s gonna rip it out, but he really doesn’t give a fuck anymore because _holy shit, I just made Yifan whimper, oh my God,_ and he comes hard and abruptly into Sehun’s mouth.

Sehun swallows hard and tries to catch his breath. He reaches between his thighs, fingers ice-cold on his scorching, disregarded skin. It only takes three short pumps to make his vision blur as he splatters the bedsheets with a scream.

“Jesus,” Yifan utters, staring down at Sehun for a few seconds before flopping down next to him.

The last thing Sehun remembers hearing clearly before falling asleep cuddled into Yifan’s shoulder was Yixing calmly announcing that he “had fun” and that they “should do this again soon.”

When the rest of the members return to the dorm an hour later, Joonmyun walks right into his room and throws the jacket he borrowed onto the foot of Sehun’s bed. The sheets on the bed screams and flails and so does Joonmyun. He flips the light switch and then really, _really _regrets it.

“Aish, no, turn out the light~” Yifan whines from the end of the bed. Yixing pops up from the cover next, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

“Mmm, what time is it?” he mumbles, laying over Yifan’s back.

“What the hell you are two doing in my room?! Where’s Sehun?”

Yixing points to the head of bed, pulling the covers off the other boys when he turns. Sehun is laying on Luhan’s stomach, Zitao spooned behind him with his has his arm around Sehun’s waist.

Before Joonmyun can even construct the question correctly, Jongin pops around the corner and peaks in. “Hey, what’s with all the - OH MY GOD! You guys actually-! Oh my god, you didn’t really – ”

“Shhh, we’re sleeping,” Yixing says, raising the sheets and covering their heads.

“…you know what? Never mind, I don’t even wanna know,” Joonmyun says as he speedwalks over to his bureau and pulls out a pair of pajama pants.

“Hyung, where are you going?” Sehun asks sleepily, wondering why his roommate was quickly passing his own bed and heading for the door.

He answers the raspy-voiced maknae without even glancing at the ensemble on people on the opposite bed. “Sleeping in the living room! Goodnight! Come on, Jongin.”

“But Joonmyun-hyung, can't I stay or somethi– ”

“NO, Jongin! Goodnight!” he shouts, tugging Jongin’s arm. Sehun hears him call Joonmyun a ‘killjoy’ before the door slams behind them.


End file.
